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Mythic Ages
Myths of Creation The First and the Cold Void Imagine, if you can, a time before barons, before wars, before earth and stars and air, before sorely mistreated horses and narroot strips. Before there was even physical form or time or dreams, there were the First. To conceive of them (the pronoun “them” is used for sake of simplicity, the First being thought of as neither single nor plural, neither male nor female) is to imagine the mere idea of an entity. The First are greater in terms of potential than mighty gods, for it is to the First that gods owe their own existence. Yet also they are lesser, for the First lack personality and form, and therefore have nothing to which a thinking creature can relate. The legends are not clear as to whether the Void came into being with the First or the First created the Void. Some interpretations suggest that they are one and the same. Whatever the truth, the Void is the space within which all later creation took place. The Lays of the First Without breath, tongue, or lips, the First are said to have uttered songs or poems that shaped the Void, defining its potential and giving birth to all things. These verses described ideal forms and natures. Elves insist that echoes of the Lays can be heard to this day in the rhythms of nature. They say the sounds of these songs nourish spirits like food, and it is in this tradition that the Wealdweavers work their craft. The Yrthwrights No one has a clear idea of when the creation of the Dragons occurred. The First cannot have created Dragonkin before the creation of the Aenlong, for the Dragonkin are of it. Further, the Dragonkin must have existed before the First created the mortal realm, because the Dragonkin played a part in its construction. Regardless of when it occurred, the first dragons were molded from the debris of creation and granted the ability to speak matter into existence in a manner reminiscent of the Lays of the First (note here that the Runemasters of Greyhaven disagree as to whether the runes of the dragons are vestiges of this language). Through these incantations, they set about creating the Firma Dracem, the mortal realm, and adorned it with spinning bodies, planets, and suns. Their great work is nothing less than existence as mortals perceive it. Thanks to their talents, they were termed the Foundrakes, also called the Yrthwrights. Three Planes of Power are Conjured From the Void The First conjured three distinct existences from the Void, called the Planes of Power. The highest of these is the Empyrean, a plane of perfection. Elven legends talk of the four spheres: the spheres of light, air, life, and dreams. These spheres exist in such an unadulterated form in the Empyrean that the cares of hunger, age, and discomfort are utterly unknown there. The lowest of the Planes of Power is the Ynfernael. Whether the First intended the Ynfernael, or whether it was through the influence of some other malign power, is quite unknown. What is clear is that it is a dismal place populated by monstrous entities that crave to visit torture and degradation upon mortals. The Elves speak of several spheres that they associate with the Ynfernael, and these include (but may not be limited to) Darkness, Pain, Death, and Hunger. Between them, the Aenlong was formed, the realm to which the plane of physical existence is connected. The Aenlong is a spiritual plane, however, believed to be the same as the fabled Grey Lands spoken of in the practices of the Dream Walkers. Over time, the Aenlong became full of the refuse of creation, half-tangible, unfinished things that belong in neither the Empyrean, nor the Ynfernael, nor the mortal realm. Setting in Motion the Verto Magica The First then set into motion the Verto Magica, which is also known as “the Turning.” According to Elven sources, to create the Verto Magica, the First employed a sort of spiritual mechanism involving the rise and fall of the Empyrean and the Ynfernael planes. Without the Verto Magica, everything would be fixed in place, and time would stand still. Learned beings propose that for something to occur, the energy for such an occurrence must exist, and it is speculated that all such energy is due to the Turning. Primordial Creatures: The Fae and the Dimora Once the Aenlong was established, the First turned their attention to the creation of life. Elven sources suggest that by the time they themselves were created, other beings already existed, including two races that bear resemblance to mortals in that they possess corporeal bodies and thinking minds. Whether these beings were created by the First in a deliberate manner or were unintended manifestations of the Empyrean spheres of air and life is not a settled matter. The tales say that these beings were the Fae and the Dimora, who can sometimes be found in the mortal realm. The Fae and the Dimora are wild, hostile, and rarely seen, although they do have the rudiments of language and culture. Little is known of them, and most only ever hear rumors of their existence, if that. There is a theory that they are experiments on the creation of intelligent life that met with mixed success, and are not quite real as mortals know reality. The Fae are at home in the air and the Dimora in the earth; they are believed to be disturbing even to one another and are said to harbor mutual abhorrence. The only known protection against them is cold iron, and all books pondering their existence are girded with the thick metal. The River Taare and the Darkwood There are two locations that are within the Aenlong, yet also sometimes outside or crossing into the mortal realm. These locations present yet another challenge to the non-Elven imagination, for how can physical places exist outside of the purview of reality? Once again, the Elves choose to obfuscate the issue, claiming that such locations are simply understood as both spiritual and physical. The roaming Darkwood is one of these locations. Said to be a massive and ancient woodland, it is dense with mossy tree trunks and thick undergrowth full of ferns and fungi. The Darkwood has no fixed position in the Aenlong, but alters its position and the limit of its borders according to an unheard and random rhythm. The River Taare appears in the myths of many races (including the Orcs, who are rarely known to worry themselves with cosmology). The river is said to form a border between the Empyrean and the Aenlong. The Elves draw a poetic comparison between the waters of the river and tears shed in sorrow, claiming that sadness, like the waters of the river, is not present in the Empyrean. Timmorran himself theorized that the river was formed from the “condensation of the Void” in a moment of somewhat scholarly humor. The Elves The First then undertook the creation of more familiar beings, and prominent among them were Lord Emorial and Lady Latariana, called Father and Mother to the Elves. If the Elven myths are true then light (in the form of an archetypal sun) and air (in the form of a primeval sky) were initially created separately, but then “light was drawn in to bask in the sky” (as the Legendum Magicara has it), and the two were married. This tale may well relate to the creation of Emorial and Latariana and the relationship between them, for he was said to be the Lord Protector of Light and she the Lady Protectress of Air. Quite what light and air needed protection from is a mystery to scholars, but the granting of such offices nevertheless seems to have been a source of great pride. The Elves dwelt within the Empyrean, and had little to do with true physical existence in the mortal realm. Instead, their spirits were nourished wholly through their relation to the spheres. It is not entirely clear whether Emorial and Latariana were themselves the progenitors of the Elven people, or merely the first of them to be created and gain particular recognition. If they were the literal Father and Mother of the Elves, they must have made a fecund pair, for soon enough the Elves numbered in legions. Certainly they were lovers, and wedded in the fashion of their folk. Desire and Betrayal The Turning turned and time passed, and Lady Latariana slowly began to covet more than her current existence. She longed for greater power than the Elves had in the Empyrean plane, and she told Emorial of her heart’s fervent desire, a Crown of Dreams and Life. Scholars ponder over why Latariana became avaricious, but consensus suggests that a shadowy spirit from the Ynfernael plane tempted her in secret murmurs. Others suggest that the First, lacking personality, were too cold an entity (or entities) for Elves to form any sort of deep relationship with them. Whatever her motives, she cajoled her husband and made ceaseless requests for him to win her dominion over the primary spheres, or perhaps all the spheres, of the Empyrean. Emorial eventually agreed to her pleas, and to please his love he set off to grant her wish. He traveled to the farthest edge of creation and called for the First to relinquish control. The First did not so much as deign to respond, leaving Emorial humiliated and wrathful. He returned to the Elves and marshaled them in mutiny against the First. He marched his host through the Gate of Years, Lady Latariana at his side. The Elves thought they would pass into the halls of the First, but instead found themselves on a bridge over a great river. Though they did not realize it, they were crossing over into the Aenlong. The Elves Are Imprisoned For countless days, the Elves marched, perhaps never realizing they were hopelessly lost. They fell to the predations of the Fae and the Dimora. They traversed the hazardous wastes of the Grey Lands. Then, one day, they found themselves on narrow tracks that led through a great foreboding forest, and they came, eventually, to a great green glade bathed in golden sunlight. This was the Aymhelin forest, whose northernmost eaves reach into the lands of Terrinoth to this day. For a brief moment, Emorial dared to think that their mutiny had succeeded and their dominion over the four spheres of the Empyrean had been won. Then he spied the architect of the glade, a great winged serpent—the Yrthwright Mennara. The majestic dragon is said to have held Emorial’s cold gaze with its own implacable one, and it passed the judgments of the First down upon the rebellious Elves. They were exiled from the Empyrean. Light and Air would no longer be theirs to command. The Lays of the First would no longer come freely to their hearts to nourish them. Lastly, they were now imprisoned on the mortal plane—which the Elves now realized they had emerged into during their march. Then the realization dawned on Emorial that, for their desire, the Elves would be bound to the object that was both their destination and their damnation, a crowning realm of light, of air, of life, and of dreams. This world, which some dare name after the Yrthwright of this tale. The Tears of Latariana The Elves begged Mennara for mercy, but it would not heed them. Instead, it turned to Latariana, and it offered her a terrible choice. It suggested that there was a way the Elves might win an eventual reprieve. A window to the Empyrean could be left open for the Elves to return through one day, but the cost for such a favor was high. Latariana would have to enter the Void, taking with her the Ynfernael temptations that had led to her greed. With a heavy heart, Latariana agreed. She turned to Emorial, and she whispered to him the last tender words he would ever hear. They embraced then, and she wept brave tears of sorrow and regret before climbing on the back of the Yrthwright. The majestic creature then spread its vast wings and flew up into the darkening skies. The Elves watched as Latariana was borne from the world into the Void, and as she grew too distant to see, a bright light shone in her place—the first star. More stars began to appear, reminders of Latariana’s sacrifice for her people, and the Elves watched them in sorrow and awe. But one could not look. Emorial was staring at his hands, wet with the tears of Latariana. Before his eyes, the tears transformed into eleven stunning pearlescent jewels, but mere echoes of his lost love’s beauty. Like the stars, they were tokens of hope for the Elves, signs that they could earn forgiveness. However, Emorial was wracked with shame, anger, and grief. The promise of eventual forgiveness he could not countenance for himself. He called forth eleven Elven nobles and shared between them the Tears of Latariana. The jewels were to serve as marks of office, for Emorial divided his host into eleven tribes, and directed the nobles to lead each faction. He bade them take his people into the future of this new world until a path back to the Empyrean was made clear. Then, he took up his sword and with cold fury in his heart, left his people. The Elves say that he journeyed to the Ynfernael plane, seeking to mete out vengeance on the corrupting shadow that had murmured temptations to his bride. The War of the Shadow Tear It is a sad fact that history focuses more on violent moments than on periods of peace, and so it is that there is little to be said of the harmonious years in which Elves settled in the mortal realm. Two centuries after their arrival, the tribes scattered to far-flung territories and developed distinct cultures. Only the Latari Elves remained in the forested clearing. Still, the eleven Elven tribes kept links of trade and friendship. The Dismal History of Malcorne Malcorne was the proud bearer of a Tear of Latariana and chieftain of the eleventh Elven tribe, the Malcari. They ventured forth from the boughs of the Aymhelin and roamed far from other Elves, settling at last in what would become known as the Jornall Mountains, where Emorial was believed to have pursued the demons into their home. Among the other tribes, Malcorne’s folk had a mixed reputation. They were hailed as heroes for carrying Emorial’s legacy into the present, but also sometimes regarded as aloof and often criticized for taking action without consulting with the other tribes. In their efforts to fight the Ynfernael, they had begun to study and use the demons’ very power against them, earning them the consternation of their allies. During one patrol, Malcorne was leading a band of demon hunters deep into the caverns when their battles caused a cave-in that separated him from the others. He was thought to have perished alongside the treacherous demons, and his tribe wept for their lost leader. When he returned to the Malcari city, having somehow miraculously survived his encounter with a demon, Malcorne was a changed chieftain, given to brooding moods and regarding his fellows with suspicious glances. In time, Malcorne gathered a small coterie of his most trusted allies to his side and explained that in his wanderings he had found Emorial, their long-lost king. Emorial had explained to Malcorne that the Tears of Latariana were a gift in disguise, powerful enough to open a door to other planes of existence—to the Aenlong—allowing the Elves to return to their rightful home. In Emorial’s time hunting down the forces of the Ynfernael, he came to realize that the First were tyrants, afraid of being usurped by their own children. The promise the Foundrake Mennara had given Latariana was a lie: the false hope it had instilled in the Elves would keep them subservient in their prison and obsequious toward the First for the rest of eternity. In his dying breath, Emorial charged Malcorne with revealing the truth of the First to the other Elven tribes and leading them in rebellion against their former masters, lest they be prisoners forever. The Latari Elves maintain to this day that it was not Emorial whom Malcorne encountered in the cave, but a cunning demon wearing his face. A Tear in Shadow Malcorne knew the Elves would need strong allies if they were to cast down the First, and so he used his Tear to pull down the shields between the Firma Dracem and the Aenlong. There, he found the allies he had been looking for: a horde of demons who had crossed over from where the Ynfernael overlapped with the Aenlong. In that moment, the Tear of Latariana that Malcorne possessed grew dull and shadowy, losing the light it once held. Once he had corrupted his birthright, Malcorne used the Shadow Tear, the Ynfetaar, to open up rents in the fabric of reality. However, the process was arduous. Malcorne reached out to the other tribes, explaining the Foundrake’s lie and that their Tears were needed in order to break the shackles of this reality and gather allies from the Aenlong. The other tribes saw Malcorne’s plans for what they were: evil and corrupt, twisted by the whisperings of demons. The two sides could not be reconciled, so Malcorne launched an attack on the other Elven tribes, determined to capture their precious Tears of Latariana by force. Backed by ranks of savage demons and packs of Ynfernael creatures, Malcorne’s followers ravaged and routed the first few Elven armies sent to stop them. Soon, the other Elven tribes scattered before Malcorne and what they called the Daewyl or “Twice Fallen” Elves. The surviving Elves fled to remote regions, distant islands, and lonely mountaintops in order to protect their precious Tears from capture. The Battle of Enfreil In the depths of darkness, however, a beacon of hope shone through. Glaciel Snowstar, son of the chieftain of the tenth tribe, the Nivalis, had witnessed firsthand the devastation of Malcorne’s assaults but refused to give in to despair. He rescued his father’s Tear and resolved to travel to the Yrthwrights’ own home, where he would ask the dragons for their guidance and help in defeating the corrupted Elven chieftain. Along the way, he gathered companions to his cause: High Priestess Celeneth of the Salish, the Feredel sorcerer Keldarim, Erenil the Swift of the Latari, and others. The extent of Glaciel’s adventures and the exploits of his companions have made their way into countless lays that are still sung in the verdant settlements of the Aymhelin. The dragons, whom the First had tasked with preserving the world, seemed to anticipate Glaciel’s coming, but remained aloof even as he begged them for aid. They rebuffed Glaciel’s appeal—this was the Elves’ own doing, and the Elves would need to bear this burden. Yet the Nivalis lordling would not give up. When he refused to leave, the dragons explained that if they interceded in the Elves’ affairs, one day the tribes would be forced to pay a terrible price. Glaciel could not allow his people to suffer any longer, and accepted the dragon’s deal. Glaciel and his companions returned to rally their respective tribes with a flight of dragons at their back. On the Plains of Enfreil, they fought a final battle against Malcorne. In the world’s most desperate hour, their combined forces ultimately achieved victory and struck down the dark Elven lord. The remaining Daewyl Elves retreated from the combined Elven and draconic forces, hoping to hide themselves away. The victors could not afford for the corruption to spread, so they hunted down their foes to burn them from the face of this world. Malcorne’s wretched tribe was nearly extinguished in the slaughter. Many worry that small enclaves of the Daewyl still lurk in the dark nooks of the world, but at least one group claims to have come back to the light. Now calling themselves the Deep Elves, they seek to atone for their sins by destroying demons in this realm—and in others beyond. The Troubled Rise of the Younger Races The War of the Shadow Tear had been won, but the Elves still faced trouble. Daewyl sorcerers had opened up many rifts between the mortal realm and the Ynfernael, and any demon wishing to enter Mennara could use them to cross over into the vulnerable world. For the Elves, these rents were a curse, but from the Human perspective, perhaps they should be thought of as a mixed blessing. The direct influence of the Ynfernael is no doubt inimical to life, as demons love nothing more than to cause suffering for mortal beings. However, the indirect consequence of Ynfernael energies bleeding through was geographical change and the alteration of animal kinds that has led to life as we know it. The Elves strove to locate the rifts and close them, sealing them with powerful wards of Empyrean magic, yet they never found them all, and despite their efforts to guard the sites of warded portals, Daewyl agents still occasionally managed to sabotage their work. It was during this time that other races, driven into being through the mutating forces of Ynfernael power, came to make their mark on the world. The Dragonkin had always shared a semblance of culture and learning and had assisted the Elves in the past, but now they were joined by younger races, such as the Dwarves, Orcs, and the Humans. The Elves were concerned by the emergence of such folk, but after much debate, they decided to allow the younger races to live and develop their own civilizations. The Dragonkin did not concur. Unwilling to interact with the newcomers, they cut their ties with the Elves and journeyed to the craggy volcanic wastes of the far north. The Years of Hunger No one knows what caused the Great Cataclysm, a series of quakes and upheavals of unprecedented proportion that wracked the world. Its tempests washed away great swaths of land or shattered them into archipelagos. Scholars have advanced numerous theories about its origins. Some say Ynfernael energies tore the land apart, or that it was the work of the Daewyl in an appalling act of revenge. Others suggest it was a terrible mishap resulting from Elven rites designed to seal the remaining portals shut. Many, however, tend to agree that such upheavals are simply a fact of the world’s nature, and that mortals will bear witness to even greater destruction in the fullness of time. Most scholars hold that the Great Cataclysm occurred several thousands of years after the Elves’ arrival in the mortal realm. In the wake of the destruction, the younger races began to play a greater role in the shaping of history. Presumably, the ancestors of Dwarves, Orcs, and Humans were created and performed great acts during the times Humans think of as prehistoric, but the Elven narrative does not deign to mention much about their activities. The Years of Hunger were appropriately named, for in the years following the Great Cataclysm, the skies darkened, and the waterlogged soil yielded meager harvests. Hard times are said to produce hard people, and a will to survive drove the Humans and the other newer races onward. A savage, nomadic culture was winning a reputation for ruthless marauding in the far northern wastes; perhaps these barbarians were the ancestors of the great and terrible Uthuk people. If so, they can be credited as the oldest of the Human civilizations, just as with the next breath, they can be condemned for descending deeper into savagery ever since. Humanity spread from the Ru Steppes into other lands. Perhaps these Humans fled as refugees from the ancestors of the Uthuk. In the lands that were to become Terrinoth, they found temperate climes, cool lakes teeming with fish, abundant woodlands, and fertile valleys. Early settlers soon found that they were able to give up their roaming ways in favor of permanent residence in villages and farmsteads. The Early History of the Dwarves Dwarven history has been a series of tragedies that has seen its people constantly flee deeper and deeper underground. When the rents left by the Shadow Tear spilled otherworldly energies across the world, the Dwarves are said to have sprung forth from the rocky, flame-wreathed crags of the Molten Heath, which certainly fits with their grim, dour demeanor and fiery tempers. The early Dwarves scraped out a miserable existence among the basalt outcroppings and lava flows of the Molten Heath’s heart, hunting the salamanders that basked along the shores of the molten lakes and foraging for shar-roots and lindengrass beneath the rocks. The Epic of Helka the Bold Among the Dwarves lived a skilled miner named Helka, who struggled to raise her daughter, Valnir, after the death of her mate. The legends say that one day Valnir grew sick from the ash-laden skies, and all knew that she would soon die. But Helka refused to accept this, and instead chose to journey with her daughter deep into the heart of the Heath to find the great and terrible beings that made their lairs in the tallest fire-mountains. There, she would demand the dragons’ aid. The journey was long and perilous, but finally, Helka found a vast cave on the top of the tallest mountain. Within dwelled a monstrous serpent with silver scales and golden eyes, regarding the Dwarf as one might study an insect crawling up one’s arm. Fearlessly, Helka faced the dragon and demanded that it help save her daughter’s life. The dragon gestured to the walls of the cave, and Helka could see claw-carved runes covering the rock. The dragon would let her use the runes to save her daughter, but in turn, it would take Helka’s sight, so that she could not pass that knowledge on to others. The Dwarf agreed, and the dragon showed her which runes could be spoken to heal her child. They would be the last thing she saw, as its wondrous visage grew in brilliance and seared her eyes. The mighty being left, and Helka spoke the words of power to cure Valnir. Then, she felt her way to the cave wall and, by touch, began memorizing the shapes of the other runes carved into the cave walls. When Helka returned to her kin, she took a stone and scratched every rune she could remember into a slab of basalt. As the Dwarves began to unlock these secrets, the days of their primitive existence ended. The Karok Doum The runes contained the secrets of magic, metalworking, farming, and masonry. With this knowledge, the dwarves were able to travel from the fire-scorched heart and into the green prairies that encircled the Heath. They built great cities of brass and basalt in the mountains overlooking these verdant lands, and called their home the Karok Doum, or “gift of dragons” in the Dwarven tongue. For many years, they worked to build a realm of stability and peace, as Helka the Bold continued to study the secrets of the runes and Valnir became a great leader of her people. But the peace was not to last. The War of Fire The dragons of the Molten Heath grew to resent the Dwarves, calling them thieves who had stolen draconic knowledge. They cast wrathful eyes on the growing Karok Doum, and eventually, they went to war. Though the Dwarves fought valiantly, such a war could only have one outcome. One by one, their cities burned. The shattered remnants of their armies made a final stand at Black Ember Gorge. Behind them, caravans of refugees fled from the Heath into the hills and plains beyond. Before them, the dragon armies circled. Though old and frail, Helka the Bold led a final army against the dragons, telling Valnir to lead the remainder of their people to safety. At the last, Helka was said to have unleashed her most devastating runes to destroy the pass along with many dragons. Alas, the rune magic also took the lives of Helka and the brave Dwarves who stood with her that final day. Exile to Dunwarr The Dwarves found no refuge in the rolling, treeless hills and steep ravines that bordered the Molten Heath to the southwest. Eventually, however, their wanderings led them to a vast mountain chain. Some journeyed east, forming the settlements in the Jornall mountains, while others continued traveling south. Beside a volcano in the heart of a bountiful valley, these refugees would build the city of Yrthwright’s Forge— named as a reminder of the glory of their former kingdom. However, Valnir and many of her people instead built homes among the mist-shrouded peaks to the north of where Terrinoth would arise. The occasional dragon still flew out of the north, and so the Dwarves began to build their fortresses underground. As they followed caves deep below the surface, they left the sky behind. Eventually, they called the mountains the Dunwarr, or “sanctuary.” The children of Valnir became the first Deeplords, protecting and leading their people. Humanity Steps Forth The Hunger Years mark the end of history as the Elves tell it and the beginning of Man's. At that time, Humans had made tentative movement toward civilization but did not yet keep calendars, and the lands that would go on to become Terrinoth were largely uninhabited save for a few fledgling farmsteads and villages. Lord Arcus Penacor and the Age of Steel The campaigns of Lord Arcus Penacor, who would become first of the Penacor Kings, mark the beginning of known human history. Arcus was a noble chieftain of one of the small village fiefdoms. In the latter days of the Years of Hunger, his homeland faced constant attack from brutal Orcish raiders and those who would eventually become the terrible Bloodguard Knights. Arcus forged a confederation with neighboring fiefs, convincing them to pool resources and fighters in order to secure a safer land. Soon after, these united armies vanquished their enemies. Lord Arcus, who had not only provided the vision to form the confederation but also fought bravely in many battles, was hailed as a hero by the people of the lands. He was declared king of the new realm of Talindon, the central kingdom of the continent. It is from this momentous event, nearly two thousand years ago, that Humans date the years. King Arcus proved to be a capable ruler. He brought all the petty kingdoms and fiefs in the land now known as Terrinoth under his banner (except the hidden realm of Saradyn which remained independent). He set to drafting charters that codified the governing of Talindon, and one can see traces of these ancient laws in the codes that the Daqan Lords enforce today. He raised funds for temples and great works of art. He kept the people safe, establishing fortifications, border patrols, and chivalric orders. Fortune smiled on the newfound kingdom, and its many strong children dedicated their own efforts to its glory. The Early Days of the King of Grief The Years of Hunger were over, and for nearly three centuries, the realm flourished under the rule of the Penacor Kings. When he first came to the throne in the year 286, King Jerlon Penacor showed every sign of proving worthy of the crown. His capable queen, Riya, was celebrated at court for her intelligence and charm, and their infant sons, Farrengol and Farrendon, showed every sign of becoming fine princes of the Penacor line. Love tore the realm apart, however, as it is ever wont to do. By all accounts, Queen Riya and the king’s greatest friend and highest councilor, Rusticar Lorimor, had fallen deeply for each other, despite their respective vows to husband and throne. When the king learned of this, his priests and advisors begged him to show no clemency, warning him that to tolerate such a betrayal flew in the face of the will of the gods and made him weak in the eyes of his people. But King Jerlon still loved his queen, and he grew melancholic rather than wrathful. He annulled his marriage and forever banished Riya and Rusticar from the nascent kingdom. A large group of the king’s subjects joined Rusticar and Riya in exile, a strange happenstance that leads some to wonder if there was more to the betrayal than mere love. King Jerlon seems to have had trouble commanding the loyalty of his subjects, and this speaks to a lack of charisma or other weakness of character. Whatever the truth, Rusticar was to prove a great leader and Riya at least his equal in all matters. Shortly after arriving on the shores of the western ocean, they founded a legacy of their own that rivaled anything the Penacor line produced. This is, of course, the Lorimor Empire. Farrengol Penacor's Wayward Ways In Talindon, King Jerlon lamented his lost love. He refused to countenance taking another queen. Behind his back, Jerlon’s courtiers began to call him the King of Grief. Prince Farrengol had always been a boisterous child, but with his mother exiled and his father lost to melancholy, he now lacked any sort of parental hand. Farrengol took to training in the tiltyard with some of the coarser members of his father’s household guard, and an unwise bond of mutual support was forged. The guards taught the young prince how to ride and fight, but they also brought him along when they secretly raided far-flung farmsteads for their own merriment. For his part, the prince made sure that his friends never had to face any serious consequences for their wicked behavior. On the occasion of the prince’s sixteenth birthday, the court jester performed a verse penned for the occasion. When Farrengol realized that the first letter of each line spelled out the word “bastard,” he flew into a fierce rage and summoned his friends. They galloped from the castle, calling for a pox to take the morose king and his gossiping court. They did not return. In time, news spread of vicious outlaws who set upon travelers and isolated farms in the north of the country, around the borders and wild lands of Nerekhall. Reports of their crimes were grave and only increased in frequency, but the gloomy King of Grief would not rouse himself to order their capture. It was thus left up to the Lord of Nerekhall to place a bounty on the heads of the outlaws. Roving knights soon tracked the outlaws down to a farmstead. The scene within was one of unspeakable horror. The next morning, a narrow file of knights arrived at the gates of the Lord of Nerekhall’s castle. They carried a number of long poles from which dangled a score of heads. Under the dried blood and grime of the road, some of the heads could be recognized as those of members of the household guard who had ridden out with Prince Farrengol. The prince was there, too. He and his closest companions had been taken alive, and now they sat astride the knights’ spare horses, their hands and feet held fast in iron fetters. The Forbidding Tower of Nerek Nerekhall was named for the strange and forbidding ruin that stood upon lonely downs in the center of the region. No farms or homesteads stood in the shadow of the Tower of Nerek, for so awful was its aspect that a deep sense of foreboding began to gnaw at the sanity of anyone who spent any time nearby. It is said that Elves originally built the tower, though they refuse to confirm this rumor and stake no claim on the dismal ruin. Anyone who lived in the vicinity found their sleep wracked with nightmares, and delusions coming to haunt their waking thoughts. The Lord of Nerekhall used it as a prison. Prince Farrengol and his companions were interred within and left there to wait for the King, for the Lord of Nerekhall was too circumspect to dare pass judgment on a Penacor. In the dark nights in the tower, the group is said to have discovered the secret behind the tower’s ill repute: a Daewyl portal nestled in an attic nook, and within an Ynfernael shade. Farrengol no sooner encountered the demon than he promised it fealty if only it might somehow grant him freedom. When King Jerlon arrived at the keep of the Lord of Nerekhall, he was presented with evidence of his son’s crimes and the heads of his household guard. The King wasted little time in condemning Prince Farrengol to death. He ordered the outlaws to be hanged from the Tower of Nerek and their bodies taken from the borders of Talindon and cast into the mires of the northeastern swampland. Return of the Dread Prince The King of Grief returned to his castle, and there, he eked out a few more miserable years, dying a lonely and largely unmourned monarch. His surviving son, Farrendon, shared none of his father’s frailties and displayed more of the robust spirit associated with the Penacor line. And yet, Prince Farrengol and his companions had not yet passed from this world. Their bodies lay putrefied in the swamp, but the shade in the tower had not forgotten its promise. Invigorated by dark magic, the bodies of Farrengol and his companions at last rose from the swamp and set about their old crimes once more. The undead raiders terrorized the lonely homesteads that nestled around the borders of the swamp, and with the loot and weapons they captured, they set up a fastness of their own, inhabiting a ruined keep among the Misty Hills that overlooked the marshes that had been their grave. Lord Farrenghast, as the foul wretch came to be known, went on to terrorize the surrounding lands with his skeletal followers. They were as a plague upon this region, seemingly unstoppable in their dark thirsts. The Dread Prince Farrenghast was caught by a valiant band more than a century after his rise. That was believed to be his end, but there exist accounts that have him haunting Terrinoth several times since then. Despite the wight's actions, a long period of relative peace settled on most the land in these years. References # Realms of Terrinoth Category:Era